The Greatest Event in Smash Brothers History: The Ultimate Documentary
by BALLZSACK-MASTER-999
Summary: All the dumb myths and superstitions many propose and debate about the world famous Smash Bros series will finally be put to rest in the one, definitive documentary to end them all! Find out what is real, what is not real, and other crazy stuff you never knew, and would be much better off not knowing about Super Smash Bros!


**Super Smash Bros.  
**

 **Nintendo's critically acclaimed mascot fighter franchise has always been the subject of debates for pretty much ever since the first game hit stores.**

 **Why are there so many swordfighters? Why did tripping ever become a real, actual thing? Why are Melee tournaments so much more hype than other Smash game tournaments? Why am I asking all these questions that bear a very loose connection to each other?**

 **Well, now, we have decided to put all those questions to rest. (Only true Smash fans can detect the reference). Through painstaking research, through thorough, in-depth analyses of the men behind the games, we have compiled the fruits of our efforts into one, ultimate, all-revealing documentary to answer every question about everything in Smash. The time has come for facts.**

 **And this is...**

 **The Greatest Event in Smash Brothers History: The Ultimate Documentary.** **(Author's note: The title may change later)**

* * *

 _HAL Laboratory, 1998_

 _Masahiro Sakurai's life couldn't have been better._

 _Ha ha, right._

 _The famed creator of the Kirby games had made the mistake of making a hit series for the Nintendo themselves, a few years ago. He sure as hell didn't expect what happened next to actually, well, you know, happen. Regardless, it would end up becoming an unforgettable journey for the young lad, one that probably didn't change his life all that much, but I still have to cover, because I'm broke as hell and I need that goddamn paycheck to live, because God hates me. What? Yes, I know, I'm getting back on track!_

 _Well, it feels right that we travel a bit back in time, so we see just how our star ended up in this predicament, yes?_

 _Anyways, anyways. A few years ago…._

* * *

Sakurai had done it. He had created a successful game during his time working with HAL Laboratory! (Well, he'd never actually entered the building, he had worked from the home for the time being, but he was about to get promoted to a job that would require him to stay inside the building where HAL Laboratory worked, so hey, still counts).

His new title, Kirby's Dream Land, was a smash hit for Nintendo, racking up thousands upon thousands of sales by this time (and that number would just increase later on), and it had given him a chance to show off what he could really do. And it had all paid off. Now, he was about to get congratulated by the Big N itself.

Sakurai looked up in awe as Hiroshi Yamauchi (the president of Nintendo at this point in time) walked towards him, smiling warmly, and putting his hands out, something he didn't do very often. Well, Sakurai wasn't gonna leave him hanging. He put up both hands…..

….and he found himself swiftly and unexpectedly put into chains. Of course, Sakurai looked up at Hiroshi with a shocked look that clearly meant, "What the hell?!"

He got his response soon enough. "Now that you've made a hit for us," Hiroshi started, "You are never to leave this company."

Poor Sakurai could only let out a feeble gasp in shock and horror. "B-But what about my family? What about my friends? W-what about-"

"Remember that contract you signed when you first joined HALL Laboratory-"

"HA-L Laboratory."

"Yeah, whatever, point is, that contract also made you our property. We OWN you now." The president nodded, further solidifying the horrible truth Sakurai was still taking in.

"N...No, you can't-you can't do that, t-that's slavery," the young developer chuckled nervously, thinking, and hoping, this was some sick joke.

"Oh, we just did!"

 _Just like that, the Nintendo president shattered all of Sakurai's dreams and hopes. I mean, he just thought he found his passion, and now he was being penalized for it? Ouuuch._

"No use complaining. Get back down their with the rest of the slaves from HAL, and make some more good stuff for us so Nintendo can stay number one forever. Chop chop!"

Well, now the warnings his fellow HAL workers had continuously given him, like "You have made the biggest mistake of your life" and "Exit now, while you still can" made a hell of a lot more sense. Realizing there was nothing left he could do, the depressed creator of the Kirby series turned around and walked to his designated chamber.

* * *

 _And so, for several years, the life of Sakurai and his fellow HAL Laboratory workers slowly but surely deteriorated at the hell-hole known as Nintendo, a combination of Alcatraz, The Wall, slave factories, and pretty much any other famous fictional hell-hole you can think of, with video game production thrown in somewhere in the mix… after seemingly being forced to do whatever crude and sick thing the twisted managers could come up with._

 _For years, the workers of Nintendo contended with minimal quantities of food/water, harrasment, whipping, minimal break times, picking cotton (even though that has nothing to do with gaming; the person who pointed that out was killed on the spot, however) and all-around being miserable. There was only one positive; they were poorly monitored much of the time, which meant they were free to talk to each other and follow their own visions of game design to an extent. While minimal compared to the overwhelming number of cons, it was enough for them to make the best out of a miserable situation. Now, let's go back to the present. And hope that I get paid for this stupid-ass job at last._

"Alright, alright, just a bit more and…. Awesome! YES!"

Sakurai hollered and fist-pumped in quiet celebration.

Unbeknownst to the tyrants at Nintendo, Sakurai had spent his limited off-time doing something he actually enjoyed. For most of the week, Nintendo was riding his ass hard forcing him to churn out an unrealistic amount of Kirby related-content, but on the weekends, without their supervision, he had been developing a prototype for a idea fully, one hundred percent his own, on his own terms and without input from anybody else. Now, today, the fruits of his efforts had resulted in a fully functional prototype known for the time being as…. Kakuto-Geemu Ryuoh (or, the Dragon King Fighting Game or something like that-I really couldn't give less of a crap).

Sakurai was tired, starving, and about to pass out, but he had finally created a pitch for the action-adventure game of his dreams…. And upon realizing that he had no one to share it with, he glumly stared at the floor, now at a loss for what to do next. Glancing into his morbid, miserable-looking reflection, Sakurai knew he couldn't escape the truth anymore; as long as he remained part of Nintendo, he would never be happy.

And the saga of Smash Bros may have ended before it even started, had it not been for the fact that one person happened to pass by his bunk at just the right time...

Sakurai continued to be busy sulking at his reflection. Way, way too busy. So busy, he failed to hear the footsteps of his roomate, who had been leaving to go to the bathroom.

With neither of them realizing the other was in their way, the other guy accidentally bumped into Sakurai, sending the latter sprawling to the floor face-first with a thud, a large, wet splash, and a yelp in suprise.

Rubbing his sore head to wipe off the water, the creator of Kirby shot a quick glance over at his equally surprised roommate. He was a man in his late 30s, in a noticeable contrast to the quite younger Sakurai. He was a man who had seen the grind for quite a bit at this time period. This man was none other than Satoru Iwata, future president of Nintendo and all around well-loved businessman.

Right now, though, Satoru was just a man trying to make it in this harsh, unforgiving world, one painful, excruciating step at a time. His efforts had paid off very slightly; out of all the HAL Laboratory slaves that were trapped forever in this nightmare factory known as Nintendo, he had become the one the others looked to as leader in this sad time.

Sakurai mentally facepalmed. Of course! He could show this prototype to him! He would be all eyes!

"Hey, Satoru?"

While he too was starving like crazy, Satoru turned up to look at Sakurai. "Yeah man? What do you want?"

"Guess what I've been doing, during my free time, for hours and hours at end, day after day, that's giving me enormous pleasure like nothing I've ever experienced?"

"...Masturbating?"

"...Wha- no!... Maybe…. But anyways, besides the point! I have been working on a small little side project for quite some time now, on the little bits of time that I still have to myself."

Satoru raised a curious eyebrow. "You mean, a game these monsters haven't forced you to churn out?"

Sakurai nodded proudly. "Damn right!"

"Hey, man," Iwata started, chuckling to himself and shaking his head, "You know if these assholes caught ya doing something they have explicitly forbidden you from doing-and enjoying it more, no less-they'd kick your ass until you couldn't feel pain no more, right?"

"Oh, god, how I know…. Well, they can strap me down to my underwear and whip me til my back is a bloody red mess, they can break my bones all they want, and they can starve me to the point of death, and I still will not feel any less proud to have spent my time doing something that I actually got to enjoy on my own terms!"

Moven by those words, Satoru flashed the now panting Sakurai a thumbs up in approval. "I really like your attitude, Sakurai."

"Thanks….. It's a shame though, that I won't ever get to share this thing with the rest of the world….."

Satoru clamped his hands on Sakurai's shoulders, making the latter look up in questioning.

"Says who, Sakurai? Just let ol' Satoru Iwata be the judge of that!"

He gave Sakurai a warm, reassuring smile and got up, turning towards the door. "Let's go to HAL Laboratory, pal."

Later on….

The duo arrived at the place Sakurai had fantasized about going in for years prior. The place where he was told magic would happen. He was finally going to be a part of it. With a big, flashing sign on the door that said "HAL Laboratory" ensuring there was no possible confusion, it was clear this was indeed the location of the up-and-coming factory's workplace.

"Oh my god, I can't believe this is finally happening!"

"Don't hold your breath," quipped Satoru.

 _And then the door opened and Sakurai stared in wonder….._

 _At the dirty, nasty, poorly cleaned men's bathroom. HAL Laboratory's workplace was just a public bathroom that no one used due to it never having been cleaned since, like, ever. Graffiti was present on pretty much every single space of the doors to the stalls, the mirror was cracked in multiple places, grimy, disgusting, years-old stains on the sinks and floor that the janitors had given up cleaning, and that's not even describing the toilets. If I described the toilets, you'd be scarred for life._

Sakurai's expression changed from a look of pure joy to a giant gape in shock in seconds. He looked up at Iwata with a questioning glance.

"Yeah, sorry man. Remember, we ARE still in Nintendo. Do you really think those greedy tyrants would give their slaves anywhere near enough money for a computer and a table to work on, let alone an entire damn office?"

"...Good point."

"Sorry, man, them's the breaks. So, what's your prototype about?"

"Thought you'd never ask," said Sakurai. With a flourish, he whipped out his concept art. "The name is Kakuto-Geemu Ryuoh, and it's sort of a shit-storm of epic fighting game cliches. It's a fighting game full of impossibly ripped manly men from Japan, girls with MONSTROUS, jiggling tits who can jump 15+ feet in the air, a shady fighting tournaments led by a cleary evil and sinister corporation that everyone overlooks, because they're idiots, and a baker's dozen of effortless palette swaps to pad out the roster! You know, just like all fighting games have!"

The older man nodded slowly. "Yes…. yes… Hell YES! It's brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! You sir, are looking at a super-hit right now!" Satoru leaned down, and gave Sakurai a hearty handshake that he'd fondly remember as one of the best handshakes anybody had ever given him in his life. (He was more of a hug person, but beggars can't be choosers).

"So, where was I? Ah, right. I bet if you put this out right now, you'd make millions… if Nintendo actually let you. And I think we both know the answer to that."

 _And indeed they did. Hell no. Ain't never gonna happen._

"...Yeah, you're right, Iwata." Sakurai turned sadly away and prepared to drop all his work into the toilet.

"Wait!"

Sakurai turned up, arching his eyes.

"Just to be sure," continued Satoru, "Let's ask the tallest guy in Nintendo if this has a chance of being approved by them!"

 _And so, at lunchtime, they went upstairs, slipping past the guards with ease and found the tallest guy in Nintendo, a young, bearded hippie sitting over a bong, inhaling it's contents deeply. They asked him the question: Will Nintendo approve this project?_

The tall stoner chuckled to himself lamely, then got up, ready to walk away. "Fuck no!" he said, still snickering as he left.

"Welp," murmured a dejected Sakurai, "That settles it. Right from the tallest guy's mouth, too." The famed creator turned around and started to walk back, head hanging low, ready to give up on life.

"H…..Hey man, m-maybe if you changed it up a bit…. to…..I dunno, heh, that long-ass Italian plumber kicking the crap out of t-that fairy guy with a sword, then….. Maybe…. They'll accept it….. Because… you know how ol' Nintendo loves to whore out their big stars, right?"

Following those semi-sarcastic words, the stoner reverted to a sitting position. "Now leave me alone. This…. Bong….. It's talking to me."

"Man, get out of here!" Iwata remarked, waving his hand playfully at the tall stoner. Shaking his head, he stood next to Sakurai, following him out the room. "Get a load of this guy….. As if Nintendo will allow their slaves to use their prized creations that we actually created for them in a prototype they didn't give you permission to use!"

While Satoru laughed up something fierce, Sakurai seemed to be looking up in the sky, as if deep in thought. His companion didn't take long to notice.

"Hey, buddy, what's on your mind?... Aside from the obvious, of course."

"Well…" Sakurai turned up to face him. "Crazy as it may sound, I think that tall guy actually had a point. The only way we're gonna get the green light is if we appeal to them. Of course, I'll have to scrap many ideas I've spent months working on, but sacrifices must be made in every part of life, I suppose."

"...So, basically, we need to X out all the cool characters you came up with and thus remove everything that made you enthusiastic about the product you've spent at least 6 months working on, the one you've put your heart and soul into, because you had the misfortune to end up at the worst company of them all?"

You could only barely see a bummed Sakurai nod his head lightly in confirmation.

"Wow…. Your life must be crap."

"...You have no idea…"

"Hey, Sakurai! Get your ass over here!"

The woman who said that was a young, yet slightly overweight, irritable girl. She was also sharing space with Sakurai and Iwata, and she was just as excited as they were. (Meaning, not at all).

"Welp, see ya, Iwata. This is probably going to take a while."

"There's a giant-ass stinkbug over here! Get the bug spray, you jack-off! It's right next to the jar of peanut butter, that's also right next to that water stain from two days ago!"

Sakurai just rolled his eyes and walked into the room, prepared for a long conversation with the bitch.

 _Will things ever get better for Sakurai? Will this game turn out to be a success story for the little man? Of course-you already know all the answers. This is a damn documentary. Of COURSE you know this game became a smash hit. God, this is the stupidest job ever... Well, at least leave a review or something. That will at least give me SOMETHING to do other than narrating all this crap..._

 **TO BE CONTINUED...**


End file.
